


Now or Never

by dammitspawk



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, season 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 05:52:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18844936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dammitspawk/pseuds/dammitspawk
Summary: After reflecting on the way his relationship with Garak has changed over the years, and especially during the war, Julian makes a decision.





	Now or Never

**Author's Note:**

> A quick little fic, I thought. Not more than 1500 words, I thought. Why does this always happen to me.

There would be no more wasting time. It was now or never.

Julian knew he had let their relationship fade over the past few years. In the beginning it was so fun, conversing with _the spy_ , the mysterious Cardassian who was the lone member of his species left on the station. Trading literature, the verbal sparring, the way Garak challenged him in ways that none of his human or Bajoran counterparts ever did. It was attractive. _He_ was attractive and Julian so enjoyed the flirtatious manner of their interactions. The words and actions that teetered nearing the edge of something more than friendly but always jumped back before falling.

And then something happened. Or it didn’t. He and Garak began to see less of each other. He would miss a lunch or a few and there seemed to be so many more important things. Research, missions, medical emergencies, his girlfriends.

Sometimes they wouldn’t see each other for a month before coincidentally running into each other at the replimat and sitting down to lunch and conversation together. After they would promise to make time for lunch again every week but again they would stray from their commitment to other things. Julian had work, Garak had Ziyal. He no longer relied on Julian as his only friend and the spark faltered a little.

Julian remembered feeling the attraction die and not noticing or caring as much as he could. Garak was still his friend after all, and it was probably better to keep things friendly.

Then he was taken to the Dominion prison and was forced to live in a way he never thought he’d have to. And there after it all, come to his rescue, was Garak. Ironically it was more Julian that saved Garak, and in some of those intense moments he felt the strong bond between them reinstated.

Potent, difficult moments of pain, grief and terror that Garak allowed Julian into. It was the closest to Garak’s soul that Julian had ever been and the most trusted he’d felt since the incident with Garak’s implant. He allowed himself, for an instant, to believe what they’d had - that spark from the beginning - hadn’t been lost and could be salvaged after all.

It was cut short by the thing Julian had been dreadfully anticipating his entire life. The revealing of his augmented nature caused Julian to withdraw from people in a way he hadn’t at all realized. It had all worked out, somehow against all odds, and he was free. Freer than he had ever been. And yet it caused turmoil within him. A craving for normalcy lead to the rekindled spark to be suppressed in favour of continuing life as close to the way it had been as possible.

It took him a while to figure out the balance of remembering he was free from hiding and able to use his talents, and not showing off excessively. Being comfortable with oneself had been a more difficult task than Julian had expected.

This normal spell was soon abolished. Before he knew it his life was completely ripped out like a weed from the grass, by the war. He was spun on the gales of a cyclone from his home and into life as a war doctor, and when the occasion required, a soldier. But he wasn’t alone. For some reason Garak had uprooted his own relatively comfortable life on the station (still containing his _dear_ friend Ziyal and now more of his kinsmen than Garak had even _seen_ in years) and had joined their little Federation warship against the Dominion.

And through the hardest year of his life one of the best things had happened.

Garak and Julian had found each other again and rekindled their weekly lunch ritual, making it into a daily occurrence.

Before Julian knew it they were thrown back into their banter. Garak seemed to challenge him even more now than he had before, trying to poke and prod at the limits of his enhanced brain. Julian bit back with all he had, not bothering to hold back.

Literature was hard to come by on the Defiant. Julian knew he had datarods with more storage than the ships computer was allotted for recreational data. But every once in a while he would come across a freshly transferred ensign or lieutenant on the space station that would have a personal library that they wouldn’t mind giving Julain a copy of to share with his very eager Cardassian companion. Even when there were no fresh pages to dig into, they revived their debates on the works they had once shared in their earlier days. Julian had after all untryingly committed them all to memory, and so had Garak, using his finely tuned espionage trained brain.

It was different from before. They knew now so much more about each other than they had in the beginning. Julian was no longer the naive child he had been, leaning in over his plomek soup as his excitement rose ever higher like the steam freeing itself from the bowl to tickle his chin, lapping up Garak’s every word. And Garak had changed too, his teasing more filled with respect for his adversary rather than the condescendingly toying tone he had once taken.

The innocent fun, the teasing flirting made up of coy touches and fleeting looks, the naive excitement and faux danger was gone. But it was replaced by something better, more mature. Something to savour rather than quickly gulp down in delight.

And at the end of those most strenuous and stressful days Julian would find that when he laid back in his bunk and closed his eyes, ready for sleep, that it was Garak that he was thinking about.

Lunch was more of a public affair, they soon found their best moments outside the pre-established mold. Garak began to make excuses to see Julian during the long work day, coming to see him for even the most minor injuries. One day Garak came to him claiming to be developing a repetitive strain injury due to the many hours sat in front of the computer code breaking. Something Julian was sure Garak must have looked up in the ships medical computers because he was quite sure on Cardassia there was no such concept. Not to mention in the many years Julian had known him as a tailor, working away at the same thing in the same position hours at a time all day, he had never once bothered Julian with any kind of similar ailment.

Julian berated him for coming in with such small (and indeed on most occasions, nonexistent) issues when there were so many people in his sick bay that desperately needed his help much more. But it was done halfheartedly, in a way he knew Garak would never take seriously. If Garak were forced to reveal his motives Julian were sure that he would claim them as completely selfish. That he needed an escape from the monotony of the bridge or the stress of the job. But Julian knew he wasn’t just doing it for himself but to free Julian, if even for just a moment, from the horrors he spent his day witnessing usually without many (or in a lot of cases _any_ ) breaks. Whatever the true reason Julian believed these short times to be the silver lining in his dark grey cloud of a day.

At night they would often find each other again. These meetings were usually less jovial. Sitting next to each other on the bottom bunk in one of their quarters, going over the events of the day. Half concealed sighs and Julian leaning into his hand propped up on his knee. But soon the unpleasantness of war was partially forgotten and they would talk of other things, things that would make Julian smile and Garak smirk. And other times they would be very quiet, sitting in silence and just letting their company be enough.

Julian had let his guard down completely. In these moments he would flirt openly, letting himself indulge in the way he knew Garak had always done. He allowed his gaze to linger on Garaks eyes, neck ridges, fingers, even on few occasions his lips. Garak didn’t keep his eyes to himself either, especially after Julian stopped bothering to do up the zippers on his uniform shirts. He’d see Garak’s eyes flit to his neck every now and then for a fraction of a second even when they were out of quarters, and linger longer when he thought Julian wasn’t looking. Every night he was almost sure they would give in, that Julian wouldn’t return to his own quarters. But he did.

And when he did, he still thought of Garak.

For the first part of their shared exile into space Julian would have to put all his effort into dragging himself off the bunk and back to his own quarters, which he shared with Jadzia. On merciful nights she was asleep, on others she would pretend for long enough until she was sure Julian must be asleep and he would hear gentle muffled sobs.

After quite a while of this (Julian could give you the exact time but he tried to trick himself into believing he had lost track of the days) the Defiant got a very large compliment of replacement officers. Garak had until that day had quarters to himself, no one wanted to share with him, and Julian was sure he was quite grateful for it. But for once they would be at maximum capacity and everyone would have to share. Julian volunteered to bunk with Garak. He knew better than to mention the relief he saw in Garak’s eyes.

Then, he thought, for sure that would be it. Until their first night together and Julian saw Garak take the sheets from the bunk and lay them on the floor. Of course Garak’s claustrophobia would be at its worst in a mostly closed off bunk in tiny quarters on a relatively small spaceship stuck at most times without even the relief of a space station’s relatively spacious corridors. Julian didn’t say word unless prompted by Garak who some times needed the aid of conservation to distract him from the impending walls. At some point Julian had switched to the bottom bunk and would lean his head on his elbow and talk and talk and talk with Garak until they both inevitably passed out from exhaustion. If they were given that chance before a red alert would rouse them to battle stations.

They shared quarters on the space station too, it was smaller than DS9 and had a full time staff of it’s own. Julian didn’t point out that since Garak was not in fact a Starfleet officer he could ask for guest quarters of his own. He was sure Garak was already aware of that fact. But the nights they had on the space station were always the most relaxed and most enjoyed. Without the immediate tension of war all around them. And with enough room that they could put their feet up and have a comfortable conversation.

Or sometimes Julian would get really into it, get up and walk around, using his entire body to convey his point. On occasion he would go to excess and get carried away, just because he could. These bold, excited movements would often engage Garak in a more physical way as well, he’d sit up straighter, strongly place his hands on the table, flat, fisted. Sometimes he would even stand up to contend with Julian, throwing a pointed finger at him. He’d pretend to be irritated when Julian argued ideas that were controversial to Garak’s strict Cardissian interpretation but Julian could always see the delight behind his eyes.

One time Julian found himself so caught up in their argument, he’d paced the entirety of their quarters, spinning around to face Garak, who sat calmly in his chair the entire time, every time he contested him. He felt as though he was on a war path, their own private little war that was so enjoyable and delightful that it made the real war they were stuck in disappear. They sparred with words, it frustrated him in the best way and the entire time he had a smile on his face. He got so lost in their game that by the end of it he caught himself, hands on the table, leaning across it so close to Garak he could feel his breath on his cheek as he smirked smugly back at him. It took him a few long seconds to remember to pull himself back.

Looking back he can’t even recall what he’d been saying in those few tense moments, but he remembered the feeling, standing there, breathing, watching, being watched.

That was the moment Julian was thinking about this morning when he got out of bed. The Dominion war was not over, but they were finally home again. And the casualties that came with it were still weighing heavily on everyone.

So much had happened to him in all these years, but one thing he had thought on and had come to an irrevocable conclusion on was that he loved Garak. It wasn’t just attraction, it wasn’t just fun or just friendship. He loved him.

And he certainly was not going to let him fade out of his life again.

The moment he’d stared Garak in the eye from only inches away across the table in the small quarters they shared on that station was still at the forefront of his mind as he shaved, dressed, ate breakfast and finally left for the day. Earlier than normal.

He held that moment there as he walked determined down the hallway. Hopefully he could catch Garak before work, find him on his way to his shop. He mentally planned it out, where he’d see him, how he’d stop him, how he’d say what has been burning on his tongue for hours, days, months, (years?).

But his thought process was stopped short when he saw him, long before he’d planned to, leaning over the railing on the second level of the promenade looking down, watching the people pass by.

Julian realized he had stopped when his thoughts had, as people grumbled, bumping him as they tried to get around him out of the turbolift. He stepped forward, taking a deep breath before striding in Garaks direction.

“Garak!”

The tailor turned to face him.

“Ah Doctor Bashir, lovely to see you this morning.” He grinned. Julian grinned back. Garak turned back slightly to observe the crowd milling beneath them.

Now or never.

“I was just enjoying the way everything seems to have returned to normal before I open shop for the day, would you care to join me?”

Julian came to stand beside him, not looking down at the ebb and flow of pedestrians, but keeping his eye locked solely on Garak.

“Actually there is something I need to tell you.”

“Oh, and what might that be?”

Garak didn’t have time to turn before Julian grabbed both sides of his face and tugged him in for a passionate kiss.

A knot released inside of him as he felt Garak’s eager lips beneath his own. He let his fingers trail from Garak’s defined ear ridges down, blending seamlessly into his jawline. In the back of his mind he was aware of his partner bringing his own hands to lay on Julian’s body but he was more preoccupied with feeling the Cardassian for himself. As his fingers met the ridges of Garak’s chin they began to pull away.

“ _Very_ well said my dearest Doctor,” Garak breathed upon his lips, leaning back more until Julian could see his entire face clearly. The doctor’s lips were pulled into an adoring smile.

“I don’t want us to drift apart again. I realized so much in these last few months,” Julian said in a more serious tone. “I’m not the same as I was when I met you, we aren’t the same, but I’m not letting go of that spark we’ve had right since the beginning. I’m not going to let _you_ go.”

Julian felt a tension release from his shoulders. Garak was looking at him with glimmering eyes, the smile edging onto his lips was softer and not at all akin to the smirk he usually wore.

“My dear Julian,” he took a breath, letting the words hang in the air for a moment. “I feel quite the same way.”


End file.
